You've Got Me
by Princess MacEaver
Summary: After helping out a new friend, Skittery has to face a troubled past he thought he'd put behind him... Rating for language, one scene of violence.
1. ENTER ALICE

You've Got Me

YOU'VE GOT ME

By Princess MacEaver

Disclaimer: Newsies and all its characters are property of Disney.

CHAPTER ONE: ENTER ALICE

Sometimes I wonder why I even bother selling papers.Times like this morning, when it's barely light and my eyes are barely open, but here I am, shuffling down Bleeker Street with a stack of papers on my shoulder.Hardly anybody's even awake this time of day to buy anything.The only other people on the street are the hot chestnut man at the corner and two policemen harassing a bum a little ways down.Now let me say right here, I don't like policemen.After what happened with the strike last year, do any of us newsies anymore?But as much as I hate the bulls, I'm not about to go make trouble just on account of some bum who picked a stupid place to fall asleep and is getting a bit of a rude awakening.Until I'm close enough to hear the bum cry out in pain as he gets another sharp kick in the ribs.And then I can tell that _he_ is actually a _she_.

So like the moron I am, I run over to her defense.The whole time I'm thinking, "Skittery, you've got to get over this damsel-in-distress thing," but I really can't help it; I have this thing about guys hitting girls.Call it my upbringing.Ha.Thinking fast and trying to avoid trouble, I quickly concoct a plausible story.

I drop to my knees beside her."Alice!" I say—the first name that comes to mind."I found ya!"

The bigger policeman's fat hand lands heavy on my shoulder.I almost drop my newspapers as he jerks me to my feet."What's dis about?" he demands suspiciously, looking me over with his little piggy eyes.

"You found Alice!" I say, trying to sound joyful though I'd really love to sock him in his fat nose."You found me runaway sistah!"

"_Dis_ is your sistah?" the thin cop asks, giving the girl a look.Maybe wondering how I could recognize her through the layers of dirt on her face.She's really a pitiful sight, wearing nothing but some really tattered rags and a filthy blanket, her hair matted on top of her head, dirt coloring her face brown as a Havana cigar."Just my luck to get the dirty street rat," I think sourly, but I grit my teeth and keep up the act anyway.

"A course she is!" I tell the policeman, kneeling back beside the dirtball, setting down my papers, and taking one dirty hand in mine."Alice!Don'tcha remembah me?It's me, Skittery!"She just stares at me with these huge blue eyes and doesn't say anything.Now I'm thinking, "Great, and she's an idiot, too", but then she surprises me.

"Skittery?" she says softly, in a tone of disbelief, her eyes suddenly coming alive with recognition."Me own brudda Skittery?"Wow.That's some acting.For a moment there she has me doubting I was an only child.Maybe she isn't as thick as I thought.

The fat policeman snorts and breaks the moment."A touching fam'ly reunion we got heah.Now Mr. Skittery, would you be kind enough to tell your sistah she ain't allowed to sleep on da streets no more, an' we can get back to our jobs."And the policemen leave, grumbling.

I drop her hand."Well ain'tcha gonna say t'anks?" I snap at her.I immediately wish I could take my words back.I know that I'm mostly just angry at myself for getting involved in this mess, but then I go take it out on her.Just the sort of thing I'm always doing.

"T'anks," she says obediently, making me feel worse.

I stand up."Well, you heard what da good officers said," I tell her, trying to sound cheery to cancel out my harshness a moment before, but I don't think really succeeding."Getcherself someplace ta stay."

She drops her head and mumbles something.

"What?" I ask impatiently, squatting down beside her.

She doesn't reply but her shoulders are shaking and a little whimper escapes her throat.

"Oh, no, no, don't cry," I beg.Maybe it comes out sounding comforting, but what I'm thinking is, "If she starts crying I'm just going to start feeling sorry for her, and then I'll be stuck trying to make her feel better when I need to be out there selling my newspapers."

"I'm, I'm," she tries to say, raising her face to look at me.Sure enough, a glistening clean track of tears cuts through the filth of either cheek.That's it.I'm helpless when I'm up against a crying girl.I'd have to be pretty heartless to leave her there.Goddamnit don't I have other things I need to be doing???

I pull out my handkerchief and start wiping her face, swearing nonstop in my head the whole time.If she could have read my thoughts… But she can't, and she just keeps crying, and lets me clean her face.

"Now, whatsa matta?" I ask her, fighting to keep the irritation out of my voice."You can't afford a place ta stay?"

She sobs, and grabs my handkerchief away to crumple into her eyes.Okay, I never liked that handkerchief anyway."It's, it's not that," she says, her voice thick with tears.

Oh, give me a break."Den what're you sleepin' on da streets for?" I demand.

She makes a little strangled noise, but stops dabbing at her eyes."Wouldn't noplace take me in," she says miserably.

"Why not?" I start to ask, but then her blanket falls off her shoulder, and I see the telltale bulge of a round, full stomach beneath that rag that serves as a dress.My words die in my throat and it's _my_ turn to sound like I've been strangled.She must see the expression my face, because she bursts out crying again.

"Oh, no," I blurt, for I'd thought she had just about cried herself out."No, wait, don't cry again."Her response is to let out a little wail of self-pity."No, please," I'm getting desperate now, "Can't I help you or somethin'?"

She sniffles and looks up at me.Her cheeks are almost washed clean from tears now, her eyes glistening wet."What can _you_ do?" she challenges, and rubs her eyes with the heel of her hand.

"I can…" I can leave you here crying in the street and go sell my papers so I can afford some food tonight, that's what I can do.No, I can't.I sigh."I can try ta help you find a place to stay, a'right?"

She rubs her eye with her left hand.No ring, of course.I knew that without looking.She can't be any older than sixteen, anyway.She seems to be considering my offer and then she nods."Okay," she finally says.

Finally.I offer her my hand, and she carefully arranges the blanket around herself again before standing up with me.I pick up my papers, wonder again why the hell I'm doing this, and take her back to the lodging house.

Of course, none of my friends are there, since they're all out selling papers and making money like I need to be.Even Kloppman's out, running errands I guess.Who knows what he does during the day.I show Alice up to our room, which is big and messy and lined with bunk beds.I kick somebody's undershorts out of the way under a bed and stick my hands in my pockets.

"Well, dis is wheah I stay.I gotta go out and sell da papes, but you can stay heah an' make yourself at home 'til I'm back.An', ah, something to eat…"I see an old sandwich wrapped in paper on top of Snipeshooter's bed and pick it up.After sniffing it carefully, I pass it to her.

She just holds it and looks at me."I t'ought you said you knew someplace I could stay?"

"Well no, I don't really, I said I'd help ya find one.Kloppman runs dis place, I t'ought maybe he'd know someone who'd take ya in.Or one a my friends would.Or something."I know it's not the best thought-out plan in the world, but she doesn't say anything.I rub my neck."Anyway, 'til den you're gonna hafta stick around heah.We ain't got any clean clothes for ya, but we got a tub in dere." I point to the washroom and she nods."An' ya might wanna lay low a while 'til I get back.I don't know what Kloppman'll think 'bout me bringin' a goyl heah."

"Okay," she agrees.

I stick my hands in my pockets again."Well, you need anything else?"She'd better not.I've lost at least an hour of selling time for this girl.

"No, dis is fine.Dis is nice."

"Good."And I leave before I can get stuck doing anything else for her.Jeez, I'm such a softy.

I don't see Alice again until that night.I thought when I took a break for lunch I'd try and make sure she was okay and keeping out of sight, but I ended up working straight through the day without a lunch break since I'd lost so much time that morning.As a result, I'm in a really foul mood when I do finally get home, my arms finally empty of newspapers but carrying a dress I picked up at a cheap shop downtown.It took almost every cent I'd made that day, but the girl can't run around in the scraps she was wearing before. It ain't decent.

Most of the boys are still hanging around at Tibby's or hitting some of the Vaudeville acts, but I hurry back to the lodging house to make sure I'm there when everybody else notices that I have taken home a very dirty, very pregnant girl.When I get there, Kloppman isn't around, and when I reach the room it doesn't seem that Alice is in there, either.But I knock on the bathroom door and call her name, and it opens.I almost do a doubletake.God, it's weird how much a person can change if you remove a few inches of grime.

She must have spent hours in that tub to scrub away every trace of dirt.I see for the first time that her hair is dark blond, and thick and shiny past her shoulders.She has most of it tied back with what looks like somebody's shoelace.Instead of putting her rags back on, she has helped herself to somebody's blanket—mine!—and wrapped it around herself, tying it at the belt with a rope—Jack's.Her feet, showing just below the hem of her makeshift robe, are bare, as before, but now pink from being scoured.

"I look dat different?" she asks, obviously reading my facial expression.I didn't know my thoughts were always so apparent on my face.

"Yeah," I agree, flustered."I mean, a good yeah.Good different.Oh, but, ah—" my face flushes red as I realize she's not wearing much, and I avert my eyes, shoving the dress out toward her."I gotcha dis dress."

"Oh, t'anks, but I t'ought I'd just stick wit da blanket," she replies."Start a new fashion trend."

"Huh?"Only when I look up to see the sparkling of her eyes do I realize she's joking.She laughs at me and my stupid expression, takes the dress, and shuts the washroom door.

As I stand there planning out a way to introduce Alice to Kloppman without him jumping to any conclusions—namely, that _I_ was the jerk who got the girl in trouble—I look out around the room.There's something different about it that I just can't figure out.Then I realize what's changed.It's all perfectly tidy.Every bed is made, clothes are picked up off the floor and placed in folded stacks on beds, the floor is neatly swept.Obviously, this is Alice's handiwork, because Kloppman never cleans.Did she really get bored enough to want to pick up after us slobs?

The door clicks open behind me and I turn to see Alice.The dark blue dress fits her like a tent, except where it clings to her belly, but now at least I can look at her without blushing.She strikes a modeling pose, holding an imaginary parasol."I nevah looked so good," she says, beaming.That is, I think, the nicest way she could have thanked me, and I smile, but then I feel uncomfortable and clear my throat.

"So, you gonna come wit me to tawlk ta Kloppman?"

"Oh, I already did," she replies brightly.

"You _what_?Alice, I toldja to stay outta his way!"She must be a real moron.Or was she purposely ignoring me, after how nice I was to her?

She just looks at me calmly."I woiked it out fine, Skittery."

"Worked _what_ out?"

"I'se gonna stay heah."

"_Heah_?Alice, are you crazy?Dis is a _newsboys_ lodgin' house.Kloppman couldn't'a' said you could stay _heah_."

Her patient expression doesn't change."I tawlked ta Mr. Kloppman, an' he said he didn't know noplace dat would take me in, but den he offered me a job heah.So I told 'im I'd stay.I like dis place."

I'm still having trouble taking all this in."A job?What kinda job?"

"Housekeepah," she tells me."An' cook."

"A house—a what?What's Kloppman thinking?We nevah needed no housekeepah b'fore."Though I wouldn't say no to a cook.But I don't tell her that, it'd only encourage her.

She frowns a little and gives me a hurt look with those big sad eyes."What, don'cha want me ta stay?" she asks in a quiet voice.

Do I?Not particularly, but how am I going to articulate that without hurting her feelings?I'm not, that's how.I swallow my words and sigh.

"Shoah.Shoah, I wantcha ta stay."

She grins at me, triumph shining from her smile."Den I will."

And she does.

Alice fits right in here at the lodging house.Before the week's out we feel like she's been around forever.She's a fantastic cook, and she keeps everything so clean, and she gets along with all of us—yeah, even me.In fact, we're becoming pretty good friends.Race says it's because she's the only person in the lodging house who can tolerate my moodiness.Maybe that's true.She goes through a lot of mood swings herself.One minute she's laughing hysterically at something Boots says, then she's throwing around pots and pans and screaming at everybody to get out of her kitchen.Worst is when she starts crying over a tiny little thing, like she burnt a casserole or spilled a bucket of water.I hear her start up the waterworks, I'm out of there.I still can't stand to see a girl cry.

Of course, she blames it all on the baby."I ain't normally like dis," she explains, wiping her eyes."I just don't feel like meself no more."Then all of us boys split before she can start talking about the baby, because it makes us embarrassed for her just hearing about it, though she doesn't seem to care.When she's not cooking and cleaning, she's knitting little baby booties like she expects it to have seventeen feet.At least, I guess, she's happy now.Certainly happier than she was when I first saw her.

And wow can she cook.Roast beef and potatoes, thick and creamy vegetable soup with fresh-made bread, cakes and pies of every description… makes my mouth water just thinking about it.I haven't had food this good since, well, since my mother died, I guess.Funny how much my mother's been on my mind lately.Nine years since I've let myself think of her, and it's all coming back.The nightmares, too.And I see it all over in my head.How he grabs her and hits her and throws her to the wall—

I sit up suddenly, shaking and gasping.My breathing slows as I see that I'm up on my bunk, not cowering in the corner of the dingy apartment, but my hands keep shaking.I press my hands against my mouth, against my forehead, and try to get the images out of my mind.Frustrated, I finally jerk the twisted, sweaty blanket away from my legs and climb down to the floor.I need a drink of water.I grab my pants off the bedpost and pull them up, snapping the suspenders over my shoulders, and head for the door, not bothering to be quiet.Wake up a sleeping newsie?It's easier to wake the dead.

Downstairs is pitch dark and surprisingly cold for a spring night in New York.I make my way to the kitchen and take a glass from the cupboard, fill it with some cool clear water.A few sips and I calm down a little, my tensed muscles relaxing, my hands ceasing to tremble.

The door clicks open behind me and I whirl around, startled.It's Alice, in a nightgown and wrap, a candle flickering in her hand.

"I'm sorry, did I wake ya up?" I ask, remembering that her little room is adjacent to the kitchen.

She shakes her head and enters, holding her wrap closed with her free hand."Oh no, I was just gettin' somethin' to eat."She sets the candleholder on the counter and looks at me."What're you up for, Skittery?Bad dreams?"

She's joking, at least I'm pretty sure, but I'm embarrassed."Uh, no," I lie, forcing a laugh."Just couldn't sleep."

"Den you'll keep me company, huh?" she asks, helping herself to a few jars from the pantry.

Sitting around in the dark with a girl in her nightclothes might sound like something out of Mush's fantasies, but this is Alice we're talking about, so it's completely innocent.I don't see why not."Shoah," I agree, taking a seat at the counter.

She smiles up at me, her eyes crinkling at the corners, and spreads something across some bread.

"What's dat you're makin' dere?" I ask, looking over the counter.

"Sandwich," she replies, closing it."Bacon, pickles, cheese, and mayonnaise."She takes a huge bite and grins at the revolted look on my face."Mmmm…" she murmurs, shutting her eyes and looking blissful."Heavenly."

"Dat is truly sick, Alice," I tell her with disgust.

She comes to seat beside me, and licks mayonnaise off a finger, the vile sandwich in hand."I can't help it," she protests."Da strangest t'ings are tasting good ta me now.And I'm always wanting ta eat at da strangest times…"She shakes her head."Don't evah have a baby, Skittery."

"I won't," I assure her quickly, and she laughs again.

"Dat's what I thought," she grins, and takes another bite of the sandwich.

We laugh and talk a long time, but even sitting there cracking jokes with a friend can't push the nightmare completely out of my thoughts.Because the scariest thing about that dream is, waking up doesn't make it any less real.


	2. ENTER AMANDA

CHAPTER TWO: ENTER AMANDA

CHAPTER TWO: ENTER AMANDA

A week later, the dream comes back.

_I cover my ears and shut my eyes tight and try to drown out my mother's screams with my own.I scream and scream until I'm the only one screaming, and he comes over and jerks me to my feet and shakes me."I didn't see nothing!" I sob hysterically, keeping my eyes tightly shut."I didn't see nothing!"_

__"Of course you didn't see nothing, you been sleeping all morning!" Kloppman's voice wakes me abruptly."Sleep all day, if I let you!Get up!Get up!Sell da papers!"He slaps my feet and moves on to the next bunk over, continuing his morning babble.I roll over and bury my face in my ratty old pillow, trying to black out the images of my nightmare.How much had I been screaming out loud?I sigh and sit up, yawn, and clamber out of bed.I pull some pants on and head over to wash my face; that always wakes me up some.

The cold water feels good on my face, but when I look up into the mirror I meet the eyes of the eight-year-old boy who pretended he didn't see his mother die.Disgusted, I throw my towel at the mirror and turn away.

Later, when we buy our papers, Racetrack asks me if I we could sell together, and I turn him down.I'm not really in the mood for company today.He shrugs and says, "Suit yerself," and heads off to sell with Kid Blink.I shoulder my stack of papers and trudge off alone.I can't say the day improves much from there.It takes a sweet-faced little kid to really sell the papers, and 'sweet-faced' and 'little' are two things I most definitely am not.

"Buy a pape, mister?" I ask, offering a newspaper to a gentleman.

He frowns at me."Aren't you a little old for a newsboy?" he asks disdainfully, fishing in his pocket for a penny.

I glower at him and stalk away, crumpling the newspaper in my fist.Keep your penny, old man.What's it to you if I _am_ getting old for this job?

I've got almost twenty papers left when I decide to call it quits.I haven't sold this badly since my first days as a newsie.I stuff my leftover papers in a trashcan on the way back to the lodging house.Nobody's going to be saying Skittery's lost his touch.Not if I can help it.

My stomach growls as I enter the lodging house, reminding me that I skipped dinner.Couldn't afford it.My feet instinctively head toward the kitchen, where I find several of the guys loitering around the counter as Alice scrubs out a bowl at the sink.They all look up and acknowledge me as I enter.

"Hi Skittery," Alice says cheerfully."Long workday, huh?"

"Let's not tawlk about it," I mutter, and slide into a chair at the counter.

"Aw," Alice says sympathetically, wiping her hands on her apron and coming over to hang an arm around my neck."Didn't go so great, did it?"

"Careful Alice," Jack warns, grinning."He bites."

Everyone laughs, ha ha ha, Mush repeats it in case anybody missed it the first time, and Jack looks full of himself, as usual.I'm not amused.

"Lighten up, Skittery," Race says, socking me in the arm."It was a joke."

When I open my mouth to reply, Blink interrupts with a loud growl, and again everyone has a good laugh at my expense.Fed up, I shove the chair away from the counter and storm out.The sound of laughter follows me into the hallway until the door swings shut behind me.I start stalking toward the back door, fumbling in my pocket for a cigarette.I hear the door open again, followed by Alice's quick steps as she catches up.

"Hey, Skittery," she says, appearing beside me."What was dat about?"

I frown and don't reply.

She frowns back, not pleased with my uncooperative attitude."I tell ya what.You have dinner yet?"

"No."

"No?Den come with me and I'll get you something."I don't make a move."With applesauce cake for dessert."When I still don't show my interest, she sticks out her lower lip and tugs slightly on my arm.

"Come on already, sourpuss," she wheedles."I ain't nevah known _you_ to turn down a good meal."

My lips twitch involuntarily.I can't resist that setup."_Good_ meal?I was assumin' _you_'d cooked it."

Her mouth drops in surprise and she hits me on the arm as I start to laugh."One day, Skittery," she threatens."One day you'll be sorry you said dat.You watch out, 'cause someday I'm gonna slip some poison in your food. "

"Like your food ain't poison already?" I can't resist replying.She's just making this too easy for me.

She hits me again, but she's giggling."Oh, shuddup," she says, and I let her pull me down the hall.

Everyone's been cleared out of the kitchen, and Alice serves me a big plate, with a tall glass of milk and a thick slice of cake."Ah, food," she says, her eyes smiling."The cure to all da woild's problems."

I crack a grin and get down to some serious eating while Alice keeps me company."You want ta tell me what was bothering you?" she ventures after a while.

I shake my head, the applesauce cake suddenly feeling thick in my mouth."It's not important," I tell her."Forget it."

"Okay," she agrees, easily enough.I'm glad she doesn't pursue the subject."But if you decide you want ta tawlk about it," she adds, touching my hand, "just know, you've got me."Then she slides off her chair, cupping a hand around her stomach, and reaches to tie her apron back on."Time to get dese dishes done," she says, pointedly changing the subject."Lemme get your plate."

"Don't bother," I say, standing and taking it myself."I'll give you a hand heah."

"Great," she says, and steers me over to the sink."It's about time one a you bummers offered to help me out."

The last traces of my former bad mood dissolve as I help her scrub silverware.We get a little carried away with the bubbles, and when Kloppman wanders in some time later, he finds me with a small beard of soapsuds, Alice hastily hiding her soapy hands behind her back.He just raises a brow as I smile innocently.As soon as he's left with his glass of water, we look at each other and burst into laughter.

That night I sleep soundly for the first time in—well, too long.Thankfully, the next morning is Sunday, when we get to sleep in, since only the newsstands carry the big Sunday edition.I take full advantage of this luxury, not waking until nearly noon, when I wake to find that I'm the only one still lazing about the lodging house.I take my time stretching and dressing.It's sort of peaceful to have the lodging house so empty.The others are gone, visiting family or friends or swimming or hanging out in the park.I wonder what Alice does in her spare time.I guess she must still be around, because she doesn't like going out much in her condition.She thinks she attracts too much attention.

I'm heading down the stairs when I hear a knocking on the door.So, logically, I go to answer it.

"Yeah?" I say, opening the door.The guy on the stoop looks maybe five or six years older than me, which would make him at least twenty-three.I don't like his looks: his cheeks are stubbly, his shirt needs a wash, his lips are curled back in a not-too-friendly greeting.

He plucks a cigarette out of his mouth and exhales, smoke stinging my eyes."Yeah," he says, his voice grating like he's shouted himself hoarse."I'm lookin' for Amanda Madison?"

"Who?" I ask, wondering what kind of idiot would come to a newsboys' lodging house and ask for a girl.

"Amanda Madison," he repeats, frowning."She heah or ain't she?"

"No, she isn't," I tell him testily."I nevah hoid of her."

"You lyin' ta me," he growls, dropping his cigarette and grinding his heel on it.It's not a question, it's a statement.

I'm about to make some smartass remark when he steps through the doorway and glares at me.He's not really tall, not even my height, but his arms and chest are thick and muscled, and the intimidating way he's glaring at me makes my little comeback die in my throat.Or maybe it's his breath.

"Take me to Amanda," he orders.

Talk to me like that in my own house!I shoot his glare right back at him, drawing myself up to my full height."Look," I tell him, each word slow and precise."Maybe if dere was a goil named Amanda heah, I could take ya to 'er.But I told ya a'ready: dere ain't."

I tense as I feel a fight coming on, but suddenly something over my shoulder catches the creep's eye, and he steps past me."Amanda!" he says, seeing the girl standing in the doorway.Only it's not Amanda.It's Alice.

"John?" Alice says, raising a hand to her mouth in surprise.Wait wait _wait _a minute.These two _know_ each other?

"Da one and only," John says, grinning, and spreading his arms wide."Don't I get a kiss?"

"Hold up!" I cry, as John advances toward Alice."What's going on heah?"

Alice slips past John and takes my arm.Did I see her give me a quick look of gratitude?Her hand on my arm, I feel her fingers tremble, see her face all pale except for pink spots on her cheeks.She keeps her composure, though, and makes introductions."John, dis is me new friend Skittery.Skittery, John McAllister."

Neither of us offers a hand to shake.I think if I shook his hand, I'd hock up an extra big logy, special for him.Instead, I force a tight little smile and make some sort of acknowledging nod.His expression doesn't change.Friendly guy.

"So I'm Skittery," I say, breaking the uncomfortable silence, "an' he's John.But who does dat make you?"

She drops my arm and smooths the apron over her stomach, smiling in that sideways way of hers that means she's nervous."Well, Skit… I'm Amanda Madison."

Jesus, I am a real dumbass sometimes.Suddenly I remember how I started calling her Alice back when we put on our little show for the bulls.And we've all been calling her Alice all along?

"Soon ta be Amanda McAllister, ain't dat right?" John asks, slinging his arm around her shoulder.

I think my jaw actually drops.Alice?I mean, Amanda?Marrying this jerk?Then that means…

Amanda/Alice smiles thinly."I t'ink," she says, "we got some t'ings to discuss, John."She pauses."In private."

So Amanda/Alice takes him back into her room at the end of the hall, leaving me standing alone in the lobby, trying to figure out how the sudden appearance of John McAllister is going to change things around here.

I run a hand through my hair, lean one elbow against the wall, and knock on Alice's door.Amanda's.Whatever.

There's a moment's pause before I hear her ask, "Who is it?"

"It's me, Skittery," I tell her.The door clicks open and she looks up at me."Can I come in?" I ask.

"Shoah," she responds, and opens the door all the way.I've never been in her room before, at least not since Kloppman was using it for storage, and I take a look around as I cross the threshold.It's small, with one window on the opposite wall, and of course, everything is perfectly clean.I glimpse clothes inside a trunk before she closes the lid and gestures for me to sit on it, and she takes a seat on the bed along one wall.

I sit, stretching out my legs, and try to think of what to say."So… what do I call you now?" I ask at last."You nevah told us your real name."It comes out sounding accusatory and I bite my tongue.

"You nevah asked," she replies evenly, and it's true."And Alice is fine," she adds."I shoulda told you my real name and all, but, honestly, I preferred 'Alice'."

"Makes sense," I admit, and start picking at where the sole of my shoe is coming unattached.Both of us feel the weight of the dead conversation in the air, and try to come up with something to say.

Alice speaks first."So, you see what Crutchy's been making me?" she asks, pointing to the corner of the room.There's a half-finished wooden bassinette in the corner, a few tools spread around it.

"Hey, dat ain't half bad," I say, looking over at it.Crutchy's always been good with his hands, but I didn't know he was into carpentry."For da baby, right?" I ask.I mentally kick myself.Like it wasn't obvious?

"Yeah," Alice says, looking amused."And it's comin' along really good.Which is good, 'cause I'm gonna need it in about two months."

"Dat soon, huh?"

"More or less."

"So, ah, I'd say it's a pretty good time for dat fella a yours to be showin' back up," I comment, finally getting to the reason I came to talk to her."You two are gonna, well—"

"Make a respectable woman outta me?" she suggests, her mouth turning up into a smile.

I shrug."If you wanna put it dat way, yeah, I guess dat's what I meant."

"Well, we talked about it," she tells me, "an' we're not getting married 'til aftah da baby.'Cause, you know, no priest would marry us wif me in my condition.But aftah, it's a shoah t'ing."When I don't say anything, she spreads her hands and asks, "What, no congratulations for da bride?"

When I don't immediately come up with an enthusiastic response, her smile starts to fade.As she looks to me for a reaction, I almost get the feeling she's waiting for approval, or something.I rub my temple and try to figure out how to respond without setting her off."Dat's, uh, dat's great, Alice," I finally say.

The smile disappears completely as she senses the insincerity in my words."What, you don't think I should?" she asks, making it sound like a challenge.

I sigh."I'm just wondering, Alice… Not meaning to stick my nose in your business or anything, but are you shoah dis is da best idea?"

"And why wouldn't it be?" she demands sharply.Jeeze, I knew that no matter what I said, she'd find a way to get offended.

"Well, no offense, Alice, but from what I've heard of dis guy, he doesn't seem like someone _I'd_ want to count on."

"You don't know 'im," she replies hotly."I think you should keep out of it 'til you know what you're talking about."

"I _know_ I don't know 'im," I tell her, exasperated, "but I know _of_ him.I mean, just tell me, Alice:isn't dis da same guy who got you into dis trouble and then left ya when you needed him da most?"And I _do_ know what I'm talking about.She's told me all about him, nights when we talked alone.She told me how her mother suspected she was pregnant before Alice had even figured it out—or more accurately, before she had admitted it to herself. And then how after her family had kicked her out, she had turned to John for help, knowing—and she made sure this was perfectly clear—that he was the child's father.But when she'd told him her situation, he'd refused to believe the baby was his, had called her names and accused her of sleeping around.And then he'd disappeared.So six months she lived on the streets, if you could call it living.Turned out by her family and by the one guy who should have been on her side.

Alice's jaw tenses and she glares out at a point on another wall, not saying a word.I raise my voice with irritation."He treated ya like dirt b'fore an' now he decides to show up again and you just greet 'im with open arms?"

She looks up at me and her mouth is set in a firm line, her eyes are hard.When she speaks, her words are very controlled and precise."You couldn't understand, Skit.I'd just dumped a lot on da guy.He was emotional, confused.He didn't know what ta do.He's told me, though; he's sorry now, an' he's gonna make it up to me."

"You mean you _really_ want ta marry dis creep?" I demand, incredulous.Why am I not getting through to her?

"Yes!" she shouts, surprising me with her vehemence."I _really_ do!An' nothing you could say would change my mind!So would you stop nagging me about it!"I don't know what to say, so she just goes right on."I mean, _Christ_, Skittery!Whenever somebody's actually in a good mood about something you always gotta kill it, don't you?Well, maybe you go through life with a chip on your shoulder, but that doesn't mean you gotta make everybody around you miserable!"

I finally find words."I was just trying to make you actually _think_, Alice," I snap back, stumbling to my feet, feeling my face grow hot with embarrassment and anger."Maybe that's not something you do a whole lot, but considering dis guy a yours dropped you once b'fore how do you know he ain't just gonna do it again?"

Her eyes flood with hurt and she opens her mouth, then snaps it shut like a mousetrap."Forget dis," she says, standing, her cheeks flaring red and her fists clenched."You get outta heah, Skittery.I don't hafta justify myself to you, or to anybody else.And I ain't about to waste my time trying to argue wit anybody as stubborn as you."I hesitate, and her cheeks flush even redder."Get _out_!" she yells, pointing at the door.

"Well fine, sorry I evah brought it up," I growl, and stalk out, slamming the door behind me.

In the hallway, I lean my forehead against the wall and sigh.Well, that went well.There I go demonstrating my talent for keeping civilized discussions from escalating into verbal warfare.I decide then and there that I should just keep my nose out of her business.And I try.I really do try.

So for the next week, when John comes around, I'm out of there.And he comes by a lot.So that means I don't see much of Alice, either.And by Wednesday, I'm beginning to notice that I'm not seeing much of Alice even when John's _not _lurking around.If I'm walking into a room, she happens to just be walking out.She's hardly looked at me, much less talked to me, since we argued.By Thursday I'm convinced she's avoiding me, and I'm more than a little pissed off.That night, as I'm coming into the lodging house, I catch sight of her heading down the hallway.I've been meaning to confront her about her avoiding me, and, well, they say there's no time like the present.

"Alice!Hey, Alice!"She doesn't acknowledge me and I jog down the hallway after her."Alice!" I catch her by the shoulder and turn her to face me.

"I know you heard me," I tell her, furious.

"I'm sorry," she says, and tries to get away.

"Alice!" I say again, and grab her shoulder."I'm tryin' to talk to ya here."

"I really am sorry, Skit," she says again, and I pause.She's not avoiding me because she's still angry over our fight, I realize.What I see in her eyes looks more like fear.

"What's dis about, Alice?" I ask, searching her face for a clue."I know you've been avoidin' me lately."

She bites her lip and looks away, reluctant to answer.I don't remember ever seeing her act like this, so timid and restrained.

I squint at her, taking in her actions, and venture a guess."Does this got to do with McAllister?"

She's silent a moment, then looks up at me."He don't think I should talk to you, Skit," she whispers, and slips out of my grasp.

"What?Alice, dat's ridiculous.You _know_ dat's ridiculous."

She stops, and looks at me, nervously tracing the cuff of one sleeve."I know, Skit," she says."I know, but… John gets…He can be…"She shrugs slightly and drops her head, at a loss for words.Yeah, well I've got some that would fit.How does 'possessive, controlling son of a bitch' sound?"Don't take it personal, Skittery," she says, and looks back up at me, her face looking pinched and tired.

"Why're you listening to him, Alice?" I demand.The Alice I used to know wouldn't have taken that kind of crap from anybody. 

She gives another half-hearted shrug and tries to leave again.

"Alice—" I start, and reach out toward her.She jerks her head away reflexively, as if… as if she expected me to hit her?She realizes what she's done and the guilt on her face tells me all I needed to know.She looks at me a minute, her lip trembling, and then dashes away to her room.

I clench my fists and punch the wall, feeling the need to damage something.I punch it again, and the pain spreads through my knuckles to my entire hand.Ow.Rubbing my sore fingers, I head upstairs to the bunkroom, my thoughts hanging heavy over my head like a cartoon stormcloud.

Later that night I pick a fight with Cowboy over something insignificant.By the time the others break us up, we're both worse off for it; my lip is split bad and my jaw aches from his blows.Under usual circumstances, I'd go let Alice fuss over my bruises and nurse me with apple pie, but if she doesn't want to talk to me, then I don't want to talk to her.Instead I lay on my bunk and sulk, shooting dark looks at anyone passing by, until I fall asleep.

And when I wake up in the middle of the night, drenched in sweat and feeling smothered by my nightmares, I just toss and turn without rest until Kloppman comes around the next morning.

Tired from my erratic sleep, I take an extra long time getting ready for work.When I finally head out into the hallway behind the rest of the guys, a few of them turn and give me questioning looks.I understand why when I see Alice standing by the wall.I purposely look away from her as I pass, feeling strangely hurt.

"Wait, Skittery!"I hear her voice behind me.She catches me by the sleeve."Skit, can we talk for a minute?"

"I dunno, can we?" I counter, acid in my voice.Under my contemptuous sarcasm, though, I hear my voice catch, and wonder if she notices.

"Skittery, I…"She drops my sleeve and twists her hands, like she does when she's nervous."Skit, I'm sorry dat I wouldn't talk to ya," she finally says."It was… John just thought da wrong things about us bein' friends and all.So I told him I wouldn't talk to ya no more, but I've thought about it, and…"The side of her mouth twists up in a sly grin, "and what he doesn't know can't hurt 'im, right?"

I smile in spite of myself.This is more like the Alice I used to know.But a thought flutters across my mind, and my smile disappears._It's what hurts _you_ I'm worried about_.But then Alice looks so hopeful, so apologetic, that I push the thought away and smile wider.

"Right," I agree, and she beams at me, relieved.

"So you ain't mad about it, right?" she checks.

"Nah, 's'okay," I tell her."I understand."

"Good," she says, brightening."Now you gotta go sell your papes," she directs me, pushing me toward the stairs.I get to the distribution center just barely in time to purchase my papers, and I think everybody notices the improvement in my mood.It makes me feel much better to know that things are right between me and Alice, but I have to keep pushing away the worried thoughts that nag at the corners of my mind.

Saturday night I've got plans with some of the guys.A new act is opening at the King Street Theater, and Pie Eater has a friend who's getting us in half price.Which is good, because between some rough poker games and my recent (lack of) selling skills, I'm down to about two bucks to my name.Knowing our dinner destination is a pretty pricey joint, from my standpoint, anyway, I decide to take a detour to the kitchen and grab some food while I've got a chance.

"Where ya goin', Skittery?" Snoddy asks from where he waits by the stairs.

"I'll just be a sec," I call over my shoulder as I jog down the hallway to the kitchen."Heya Alice," I greet her quickly, helping myself to an apple from the bowl.I turn to run out of the room but pause, noticing Alice's face."Hey, Alice, what's wrong wit your eye?" I ask, concerned.

She puts up a flour-covered hand to hide the blue-black bruise."My eye?"

I set down the apple and come closer, frowning."Yeah, Alice, you got a real shinah dere.What happened?"

She keeps her hand up as a shield."I ran into something, dat's all," she says, not looking at me.

Like I believe that.I push her hand away and hold it away from her face, my eyes serious as I look her over."He do dis to you?" I demand quietly, some instinct alerting me.

"He who?" she asks, not meeting my eyes.

"You know who I mean, Alice," I snap.She pulls her hand away.

"I told ya, I hit—"

She breaks off as I cautiously touch the large dark ring around her eye.I don't even have to say that I know she's lying; she looks down, ashamed, her lashes brushing my fingers.

My touch is gentle on her cheek but my words jerk out harsh and cold."If he does it again, I'll break his arms off."

"Skittery…" She pulls away and looks up at me."Dis is between John and me.Don't do anything, okay?"She touches my sleeve beseechingly."Okay?"

She jerks her hand back as Blink and Mush come bursting noisily through the door."You comin' or what?" Mush asks, grabbing an apple for himself and tossing mine to me.

"Yeah, Skittery, we'se been waitin'."Blink suddenly does a doubletake."Woah, Alice, nice shinah."

"Where'd you get _dat_?" Mush asks, and bites into his apple.

Alice hesitates, so I jump in."Clumsy heah walked into a shelf," I tell them, improving her lie a little.Hey, I do it for a living.

They laugh, but not unkindly."Good going, Alice," Blink teases.Alice laughs nervously.

"Yeah, next time try watchin' where you're goin'," Mush chimes in."Now c'mon already, Skittery!"

They grab me by the arm and pull me out of the room, but not before I see Alice turn her back to us and hug herself tight.I feel a lump in my throat but I try to shake it off and enjoy the evening.She's right; it's between her and McAllister.So why do I feel like this involves me, too?

Back from the theater later that night, everyone's rowdy and loud and—let's admit it—slightly drunk.Or maybe slightly more than slightly drunk, I observe, as I watch Blink, Mush, and Race lurch down the street with their arms slung around each other's shoulders, belting out the chorus to one of the show's big numbers.Me, I stifle a yawn and shuffle along behind.Not drunk—_not compared to some, anyway_, I think, looking at the singers—but tired.When we troop back into lodging house, still shouting and horsing around, the clock over the counter reads 2 am.

"Will youse keep it down?" Alice's voice demands from the hallway, where she has emerged in her nightclothes and robe, a candle in her hand."Some of us was _sleepin_' in heah."

There's a chorus of casual 'sorrys' and Jack starts herding us up to the room."C'mon, c'mon, you hoid da goil," he says, waving us toward the staircase. I hang back to talk to Alice.

"Hey, how's the eye?" I ask her.

"It's just a black eye, Skittery," she says, tossing her head."I've lived t'rough 'em before."I don't say anything, so she softens her tone."Look, I appreciate dat you're concerned an' all, but I really can take care a myself."

"Dat's da problem, Alice.You obviously _can't _or ya wouldn't be standin' dere wit a shinah like dat."

"Well I certainly don't need _you_ tryin' ta tell me what ta do," she counters, sticking out her chin stubbornly.

"I only tell you dis for your own good," I say irritably."I just don't t'ink dat guy a yours is really somebody you should be involved wif.Just look at yourself, Alice!Da guy is hazardous to your health!"

"And I'm just sure _you'd_ be so much betta, right?" she says sarcastically."Nobody's perfect, Skittery.So stop actin' like you think you are."

"What, Alice, you think all fellas are like dat?" I ask her, surprised and saddened by her last comment."You really think dat's da way things woik?"

She says nothing, and the candlelight casts shadows over her face, rendering her expression unreadable.

"Alice," I say, "you know it ain't gotta be dat way."  
"Dere is no otha way," she says softly, and turns to leave.

"Alice!" I call out after her, taking loping steps to reach her."Alice, look…"she turns to face me and I see two tears roll down her cheeks."Alice, you're crying," I say, wiping a tear away with my finger.

"Go to bed, Skittery," she says thickly, not bothering to wipe her eyes."I'm not in the mood to have you mothering me."

"But, Alice—" I protest, and she cuts me off.

"I said, leave me alone!"

I step back, feeling her words stinging like a slap."Okay, fine!" I shout at her."I only wanted you ta listen to me for once."

"I'm tired of listening to you, Skit," she yells back."I'm tired of your superior attitude, and you thinking you know so much.I'm tired a you acting like you know what you're talking about!"

"Well, maybe I do know what I'm talking about!Did dat evah occur to you, dat maybe I could undahstand more dan you think?"

"What could _you_ know, Skittery?" she asks me, her voice quiet and trembling and frosted with contempt.Her voice rises in volume as she continues."Just what makes you think you could possibly undahstand da situation I'm in?"

"Because," I shout, the blood rushing to my face, "because when I was nine years old I watched my fatha murder me mudda.Dat's why!Because I seen what happens when somebody like you doesn't—doesn't—," I trail off and slump backwards against the wall, raising my hands to cover my face.I've never said those words aloud, not to the police or to anyone.The day my mother died, I'd left the Bronx and never looked back.My throat constricts and I feel my eyes start to burn.

"I'm so sorry, Skittery," Alice whispers, seeming awkward to witness my pain."I'm so sorry, I didn't know."Her hand reaches out to touch my face, and I stumble back.My tongue feels thick in my mouth, my vision is blurred.When I feel the first hot tears leak from my eyes, I turn and run in a panic, not wanting her to see me cry.


	3. EVERYTHING CHANGES

CHAPTER THREE: EVERYTHING CHANGES

CHAPTER THREE:EVERYTHING CHANGES

I don't return that night.I don't return for the next two nights.I wander New York, walking aimlessly until I find myself back in the Bronx, and realize that that was my aim all along.I find myself standing on the street where I used to live, a dirty row of colorless tenement houses, faded and dusty in the light of the overcast afternoon.My old apartment building towers above me, ugly and solid, blocking out what little sunlight there is in this narrow street.I feel driven away from the place, but at the same time my feet are taking me across the cobblestones, up to the steps.I hesitate at the bottom of the steps, not wanting to enter, but unable to leave.

I don't know how long I stand there before a window to the side of the door slides open, and I see the face of a small boy.He's about seven, I'd guess, with dark curly hair and the olive complexion of an Italian."Hey," he calls to me."You want in?"

I shake my head, step down a few steps."Oh, no," I tell him."Just passing by."

"Wanna see what I can do wif my toof?" he asks me, hanging almost all the way out the window."I show you what I can do wif my toof for a dollar."

"Antonio!" comes a woman's shout from behind him.The boy laughs as a pretty dark-haired woman swoops down on him from behind, pulls him in from the window and slams it shut.Even through the glass, I can hear her scolding him in Italian."What I tell you about bothering strangers, 'Tonio?" she finishes in English.The boy just laughs again, so she slaps his rear and sends him on his way, telling him, "Ah, go on and help your sister.Why you can't be a good girl like her, huh?What am I going to do with you…"When she glances toward the street and sees me still standing there, watching this scene, she pushes the window open again.

"I sorry," she calls to me, wiping her hands with a dishcloth."This boy," she makes a dismissive gesture with her hand, "he can never do what his mama tells him.You need anything?Directions or something?"

Finally the world comes into focus around me, and I can think clearly for the first time in days."No, no, I'm fine.Thanks," I say, stepping backwards off of the stoop, and she smiles before closing the window again.I stand only a moment longer, looking at the empty window and then, the window above, where I used to hang halfway out and heckle my own strangers in the street.This place has moved on, become home to new families, families with troubles of their own.The shadows of my nightmares have no substance in this place anymore, I realize that now.And as I turn to leave, I know that I'm not ever going to need to come back.It's time for me to move on, too.With a new sense of lightness, I head back to Manhattan, back to the lodging house, my home.

** **

"Skittery, you're back!" Blink says, leaping up from his seat on the stairs as soon as he sees me.

"It's Alice," Mush says, jumping directly to the point."She got hurt pretty bad."

"What?What happened to 'er?When was it?"I'm gone forty-eight hours and everything falls apart.From reading Mush and Blink's grave expressions, I gather it must really be serious.They both jump in to answer my questions.

"Just an hour ago—"

"She fell down da stairs—"

"It was dat boyfriend of hers—"

"Dey say da baby's prolly okay but she got knocked out and everything—"

"McAllister's left an' she's in da kitchen—"

I push past them and take off down the hallway.When I shove open the door, I see Alice stirring something on the stove.She turns, hearing me enter, and draws her sleeve across her face roughly.She takes a shaky breath, and sets down her spoon.

Alice looks at me for a moment, waiting for me to speak.I'm looking at the bruised gash on her forehead, and don't say a word."I know what you're thinking," Alice says at last, moving away from the stove and gripping the countertop so hard her knuckles go white, "but it wasn't his fault at all.I mean, we did fight, but he didn't push me, he wouldn't push me.It really was an accident, and—"

"You get dat cut a yours taken care of?" I interrupt her, moving closer for a better look.It's definitely not pretty;deep and ragged-edged, up by her hairline.She must have struck something on her fall.

"Racetrack cleaned it out some," she says, nodding toward a towel and bottle of medicine on the counter.

"Sit down," I direct her, and pour some more of the clear disinfectant on the towel before sitting opposite her, my legs straddling the back of the chair.

"You let me know if it hurts," I say, and sponge carefully at her injury.She inhales sharply when it first touches, and I know it stings a little, but she doesn't complain and I keep dabbing.

We sit in silence a moment before she takes a deep breath and gets ready to start up with the excuses again.

"Shhh," I quiet her before she can even begin.She falls silent, and winces slightly when the towel brushes a bruised spot.

"I hurtin' you?" I ask, concerned.She shakes her head slightly, but I towel more gently as we sit in silence.

Alice looks up at me after a while."You're my best friend, Skit," she suddenly tells me.

"I know."

She smiles slightly."I'd like you a lot betta if you didn't nag at me so much, though."

"I know."I stop cleaning the cut, and set the towel down."So lemme just say one thing, an' I'll nevah say anything more about it.I will forevahmore keep my mouf shut if you'll just listen for a minute heah."She looks at me, wide-eyed and expectant, and I lean forward, my hands on my knees."I want you to know dat when you're old and married and you've churned out forty kids for dis guy—"

"Skittery!" she protests, laughing.

"No, listen!"I lean in and make her meet my eyes."When you've got your own family and you've moved on and everything…I just want you ta always know, dat if you evah get any trouble from anybody, if you evah feel like you need somebody on your side—you've got me, Alice.Okay?"I reach out and rest my hand on the side of her face."You've got me."

Alice's eyes smile at me, but shimmer with unshed tears."Okay," she whispers, and puts her hand over mine.Then she moves my hand to her mouth and presses her lips against my knuckles.I draw my hand away and reach again for the towel.Behind me, I hear the door swing open, and Alice's eyes widen.I look behind me quick to see John McAllister standing in the doorway.

In a second I'm on my feet, and behind me Alice has stood up too.McAllister's eyes narrow as he looks us over."What's goin' on in here?" he demands.

"Skittery was just takin' care of da cut, John," Alice speaks up quickly, stepping between us."So don't try ta make it out ta be something it wasn't."

"Your cut don't need takin' care of," he growls."Tell 'im ta get outta here."

I'm ready to spring at this jerk, but I feel Alice's restraining hand on my arm."You go on, Skittery," she says, in a voice that tells me I'd better not resist.She starts guiding me toward the door, and I've got no choice but to comply._One day I'll really give this asshole what's coming to him_, I think, clenching my jaw.

The door shuts with a click behind me, and I slouch against the wall, crossing my arms.Ever since I first laid eyes on McAllister, I've wanted to break his face, but I never get the opportunity.I hunch my shoulders and scowl.I should go tell him just what I think of him, and guys like him, thinking they can knock around their girls like that.Maybe what Alice said was true, maybe it really was an accident that she fell down the stairs, but that's not the first time something like this has happened, and if somebody doesn't do something about it it's probably not going to be the last._So what are you waiting for, Skittery?_ I ask myself, and turn and shove the door open.

What I see makes me stop in my tracks before I even open my mouth. McAllister's got her pinned up against the wall, and tears run down her face as his hand flies into the air.Everything seems to slow down as his fist accelerates toward her face.And then, the impact, the sound of flesh hitting flesh, and she cries out, her head snapping back.Her cry reverberates through my brain and I've heard this before, just like this, and whether I'm there to hear it or not, there's a woman making that sound every night in countless rooms in countless tenement apartments all over New York, all over the world.

Something blazes up hot and angry inside me and I know this time, I'm not going to just hide in the corner and pretend I never saw it.This time I'm going to do something, even if it kills me.His hand flies up to strike her again, and I jump forward like the crazy bastard I am and knock him away.He slams into the countertop, shattering glasses and knocking over bowls.I grab him by his collar before he can react and slam his head forward into a cabinet, hearing his nose crack.He swears and tries to pull away but I slam his face over and over, watching the blood flow over his mouth and chin, watching his nose shatter.

Finally he wrenches himself out of my grasp and takes a wild swing at me, catching the side of my jaw and sending me sprawling against the wall.I hit the handle of the soup pot, and it flies off the stove, landing with a crash and splashing soup all over the place.I don't have a chance to duck away before he pins me in the corner and hits me again and again, battering every inch of my face.I twist away from his next shot and sock him in the stomach as hard as I can.He loses his breath for a second, and one second is all it takes for me to drive him back against the counter, my hands firmly around his throat.He gasps for breath and I squeeze harder, my head throbbing and my knuckles bleeding but my mind only on making him suffer.

His feet scrabble for a hold on the slick floor and his arms flail, but I've got him pinned and he can't wriggle free.Then I hear Alice scream, "Look out!"Automatically I look toward her, and in my peripheral vision I see a flash of silver in John's hand, and before I can react I feel a blade thrust deep into my stomach.I choke and stagger backwards, disoriented with pain.John lurches toward me and rips the knife from my skin.I scream and blood gushes from the wound, and the pain's only just started.He strikes me again and again, driving the metal deep into my abdomen and ripping through my flesh.The pain is incredibly intense; my eyes roll back in my head and I've lost every sense except the feeling of pain.Suddenly it's like I don't know what to do with my body, don't know how I'm supposed to fight back against this. 

Then I see Alice over his shoulder, white-faced and wielding a huge black pan, swooping down on him like some angel of death.The pan strikes his head in one heavy blow and John is knocked off balance, slamming into the wall and dropping the knife.At that moment my legs give out and I collapse onto the floor, shaking.

"Meddling bitch!" John roars, pushing off the wall and advancing on Alice with uneven steps.She screams as he grabs her hair, drags her toward the stove.She begins to sob and beg to be let go when she sees what he's doing, holding her face near the red-hot stovetop."You're sorry now, huh, bitch?" he asks her, pulling her closer though she kicks and fights, crying."You're sorry now, are you?"

In my condition, I am all set to stay right where I am and die like every law of medicine dictates I should… but then I see the knife a foot away from my hand, shining silver and red with blood—my blood.I reach for it, and my fingers close around the blood-slicked handle.I stagger to my feet, oh_ God _this hurts, holding the counter for support, and reach somewhere deep inside me to find the strength to launch myself at him.

The blade slashes at his arm and he roars, whirling on me.I see Alice released from his grasp and she falls to the floor with a cry.John lunges at me, grabbing for the knife, but I thrust it into his chest.He freezes and I stab him again and again, knocking him onto his back and tumbling on top of him.He keeps grappling for the knife but I slash again and again, blinded by blood and feeling sick and enraged and panicked and overwhelmed and emotions I don't even know the words for.After God knows how long he stops fighting, and I slide off of him, wiping sweat and blood from my eyes.His body lies still on the floor, huge damp dark circles of blood spreading across his shirt.I take a long shaky breath and hot tears stream down my face.The knife slides out of my trembling fingers at last, and I clutch my stomach and fall to my knees, exhausted and emotionally shattered.I gasp, feeling the blood soak my hand, and tumble to the floor.For a moment everything is silent and still and I'm in a place where there's just my breathing and my heartbeat and I don't have to think or feel or move.

I would like to stay there forever, but I feel Alice's hands around my head and I'm startled back into my world of pain.She's screaming for help and trying to pull me up onto her lap and hold me, but she's weak, I'm weak, and everything's so bloody I can't think.I can see the blood pouring out of me and I can't register anything except the pain.Everything's in slow motion, my pulse is pounding in my ears, the blood flows wet over my hand.I press my hand deeper into the hole in my stomach but the blood only spurts out stronger.I stare at this red fountain that has been ripped in my body and I can't move, even as Alice is trying to drag me someplace.Please, Alice, don't move me…I can just barely hear her screaming, though she's right next to me.I look away from the blood and see her face, red and blotchy and soggy with tears, blood trickling from her forehead, her mouth is moving but nothing is coming out as she screams and screams.Then suddenly she is whispering but I hear her loud and clear."Oh, Skittery, Skittery hang on!" she whimpers, bending her head near mine, her hair sweet and soft against my battered cheek.And she's saying my name over and over and it's the last thing I hear before I'm sinking back into the painless dark.


	4. RESOLUTION

CHAPTER FOUR: RESOLUTION

CHAPTER FOUR:RESOLUTION

It's so black and dark and then suddenly it's bright white.When I open my eyes I'm confused and lost and Alice is gone and everything is white.I look for the blood, all the blood, but that's gone too, my stomach bound with a clean white cloth.Only then, staring down at my bare chest and the white bandage and the white sheets, do I realize I'm in a hospital.Which means I'm alive.

I try to sit up to get a better look around but my head throbs and I feel really dizzy.I guess I moan a little as I fall back onto my pillow, because suddenly this nurse turns around and sees me.

"Ah, you're awake!" she says cheerily, fixing something onto my arm and messing with little dials in a way my aching head doesn't even try to figure out.

"How long I been heah?" I ask, the room finally ceasing to spin and starting to hold still like a room should.

"Almost three days now," the nurse informs me, taking the thing off my arm."Your sister has been worried to death.She'll be very glad to know you're awake."

"My sistah?" I echo dumbly, as the nurse crosses to the other side of the room with the arm-thingy._I have a sister?_ I wonder silently, blinking and trying to get my mind around that fact.Jeez, I must have been hit pretty hard to forget something like that.

"Yes, she's been asking after you constantly.And all your friends as well, but only family allowed in this wing.She's probably in the hallway even now, shall I send her in?"

"Uh, yeah, go ahead," I say, leaning back into the pillows and still trying to remember who my sister is.

A minute later, she enters.Alice, of course, I recognize immediately—though there's something different about her.Maybe it's the new clothes?But I don't get a chance to examine her because the second the nurse opens the door, Alice runs in and practically flies over to me.

"Skittery!You're okay!" she cries rapturously.Boy, a reaction like that really makes a guy glad to be alive.I grin, then wince as my bruised face aches."Oh!But look at you!" Alice says, noticing the bandage around my entire midsection, reaching out like she's going to touch it but drawing her hand back.I'm suddenly very conscious that I'm shirtless.Where's a guy's pink undershirt when he needs it, right?

"Just a scratch," I tell her bravely, and force a little smile.Ow.Again.

"Oh, Skit, I was so worried about you," she says, sitting down in the chair beside the bed and getting her old-woman look as she takes my hand."You was bleeding and I couldn't stop it and I didn't know what ta do…"She trails off and her eyes look dangerously watery.

"But I'm alright now," I say hurriedly.

"Yeah, you are," she says, giving me a wavering smile and blinking fast to try to make the tears dissipate.

"But what's different about _you_?" I ask, deliberately changing the subject, and trying to get a better look at her.She definitely has some new clothes, a little white blouse and a skirt and a sash tied around her waist—wait, it's the waist.Alice suddenly has a waist.For over a month now I've been seeing her with a giant bulging belly and now it's gone and I didn't even notice.

"Oh my God, Alice," is all I can say."Oh my God, da baby?"

The tears disappear as fast as they came, and suddenly Alice is all proud mother, biting her lip to keep her grin from splitting her face in half.

"Oh my God, da baby?" I just keep saying, practically shouting."Alice, you didn't say, you didn't say nothing, wow, is it—when—is this—"I am completely inarticulate.

"It's a boy," she says, beaming at me, "an' he's absolutely beautiful an' healthy an' poifect.He was born da very morning aftah we brought you here.Oh, Skit, I wanted you ta meet him right away, but dey won't let me bring a baby in heah.As soon as you're out you gotta see 'im, Skit, he's da most beautiful baby you ever saw, an' he's sweet an' quiet an' so small, you wouldn't b'lieve how small he is, Skit.So small an' beautiful an'…"Apparently words couldn't do him justice, for she just heaves a sigh and keeps this dopey smile on her face.She looks down at me and giggles, squeezing my hand."Can ya believe I'm so in love wit someone I just met two days ago?God, nobody tol' me dat you loved 'em so much right when ya saw 'em.An' ta think, Skit, I almost thought about giving him away!"That is obviously now completely out of the question.So making all those little, whatchacallems, booties, wasn't for nothing.

"What's 'is name?" I ask, interested.

"Oh, I ain't thought of anything yet," she admits."'Cause John always said if it was a boy we'd name it after him, but…"She breaks off, and drops her eyes, then looks back up at me.Oh God, in all the excitement I'd forgotten—blocked from my mind—the image of the body on the floor.The question gets stuck in my stomach before it even makes it up to my throat. But Alice will be honest with me and I have to know, so I force it out.

"John's… I, uh, I killed 'im, didn't I?"

Alice doesn't drop my hand or look away, and I'm very grateful for that.She looks me right in the eye and tells me.I wince and turn away from her to stare at the ceiling.I suddenly have a lot on my mind.

"But Skittery, it's, it's okay," she starts to say, and I turn toward her with an incredulous look and she hurries to finish, "I mean, it ain't okay, a course it ain't okay, but…"She exhales very loudly and stares down at her hand that's still holding mine.Her thumb rubs against my hand as she speaks."I mean dat…Dat, uh…" I can tell she's having a hard time choosing her words, and she lets the last part out in a rush."Dat I'm not gonna really miss him very much."

She looks up at me with those big watery eyes again, and I feel like she's asking for my approval."Dat's an awful t'ing ta say, huh?" she asks, her voice trembling.

I squeeze her hand in a way that I hope is comforting and this time it's me that has a hard time choosing the words.I clear my throat."I think, Alice, dat undah da circumstances, dat's really not a bad t'ing to say at all."

Another flickering smile and more fast blinking, but this time a single tear trickles down the side of her nose."Oh, Skittery," she breathes, and I get the feeling that for once I said just the right thing.She drops my hand and wipes the tear away."The only thing… the only thing was dat, with John around, things was gonna be easier for da baby…"Another tear drops down, and another."John was gonna marry me, he always said, and da baby was gonna have a real dad, legal and everything, and nobody was gonna hafta know…"Her shoulders start to shake and I can no longer count the tears."It was all gonna be right, Skittery, for da baby."Her tone suddenly turns fierce."Nobody was gonna call my baby names, or spit on 'im, or, or, tell him he wadn't as good as nobody else's baby…"And I have to watch in horror as she starts to sob, sob so hard she can't talk.

"Alice… no…"I try to reach for her hand again but she's covering her face, crying into her hands and rocking on the chair.I even look around frantically for the nurse but she's been gone the whole time.Every time Alice wails I feel like something's tearing inside of me, and it's a thousand times more painful than the knife ripping my flesh.I'm so desperate to make her cries stop, I blurt out the first solution that comes to mind.

"I'd marry you, Alice."

Her crying cuts off abruptly, and she pulls her hands away from her face to look at me in surprise. Surprise, or disbelief, or maybe amusement really, I can't tell, but I'm not trying to be funny.She just stares at me for what feels like an eternity, and all I can think is, "Well, at least she's not crying."Finally she says something.

"Was dat a _proposal_, Skittery?"

I hurry to clarify, propping myself up on my elbow, but I'm really just as confused and surprised as she is. "Oh, no, no, not like—I mean yeah, yeah it is.I'm asking you ta marry me, Alice."

She makes a little sound like she's trying to get her throat to work and I know how she feels.She starts to say something but then seems to reconsider, and her brow furrows as she looks at me."Skittery… are you asking me as a friend who hates to see me cry or because... because you really want me ta marry you?"

Damn, she knows me too well.I'm forced to consider the question myself.My side starts to ache so I awkwardly readjust my position.Then I look right at her as I admit the truth."I dunno.Both, I guess."

Alice leans forward and hugs me, sort of forcing me back onto the pillow.Her elbow is sort of digging into my wound and I groan a little but she doesn't hear."Oh, Skittery, that's so sweet," she's saying, and I have to almost laugh at that because 'sweet' isn't the word most people would choose to describe me.I spit some of her hair out of my mouth and then gently push her off of me, relaxing a little as my injury is left to throb in peace.

She's sort of leaning over me, her hair loose and dangling down to drag on my chest.Suddenly, I'm not just confused, I'm nervous too.My mouth goes dry and I lick my lips."Does that mean, uh, is dat a yes?"

After a second that seems to last forever, Alice's face breaks into a warm smile."Yeah," she says, "yeah, dat's a yes."

And she leans forward to kiss my forehead, her hair brushing my chest and tickling me.But I stop her, reaching up and taking her chin in my hands.She glances down at me questioningly and my heart is pounding really hard, but I guide her face toward mine and our lips meet in a soft kiss.And I smile into her lips, because I can't help thinking, "We really shoulda done dis a long time ago."

© Princess MacEaver, 2001

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